So I decided this would be a good idea. Like I've seen many other Wattpaddians say, there are a lot of Vampire and Werewolf books. And really, I'm not into that stuff. So here we are! Pirates and all that crap. I hope you guys enjoy my first original book!

P.S- (Probably will be terrible)
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I never thought my life would come to this.

My heels clink against the floor as I walk down the long, golden hallway of the castle. Today is the day I announce I'm getting married to my closest friends and family. They don't care, I know that, but my mother insisted that I have a party. Friends, or family from both my mom's and dad's side, will be attending to the get-together. The only real reason they're showing up is because we're, to put it bluntly, undeniably rich.

I'm not the kind of person that likes to gloat about how much money my family has. I don't like wearing fancy dresses that itch, high heels that hurt your feet after a long amount of time, or tying my hair up into a neat bun on the back of my head. I'm a 'let it flow' kind of girl. Johnson, my fiancé, loves me to the end of the earth and back but I don't love him in that kind of way. Sure, we grew up together and never left each other's side. But marry him? Mother thought he would be a great choice for a husband.

I get to the end of the long hallway, my feet already aching from the heels that I was required to wear. My eyes travel down to the door handle and my hand just can't reach for it. If I go in there, I'm finished. No more exploring, no more long walks on the beach by myself. It will be me... and my husband. Am I ready to give up my life to become one with Johnson? Not really, if I'm going to be honest.

"Are you not going inside?" A deep yet gentle voice questions me.

I turn around to see my butler, Anthony, standing there with his shining honey eyes that always seemed to put me at ease no matter what. He gives me a warm, gentle smile, to which I give a nervous one back. Anthony would always cover for me when I would sneak out at night. Mother always had an eye on me, but not when Anthony was around. By now, the wrinkles on his face are starting to set it, as well as his light brown hair turning gray. He's like the father I've never had. My father died of cancer when I was five, a mere child.

"I'm only terrified. Why shouldn't I just run away right now?" I ask, my eyes pooling with slight selfishness.

He walks up to me, his plain black shoes making thumps as his feet hit the tiled floor. He rests a white gloved hand on my shoulder, a silent way to say everything was going to be okay. I breathe out, wrapping my arms around him for a split second, enjoying my last moments with him. Knowing Johnson, he would whisk me away to some place where I'd rather not be. A place without a beach.

"I'll miss you." I breath out deeply, enjoying his scent.

Before he can reply, I release my hold on him and grab the door handle, pulling it downwards to open the door. The white painted door creaks open and I shove myself inside the room, not wanting to cry in front of the man that had basically raised me MY while life. I didn't care if everyone else sees me bawling but with Anthony I did. He means more to me than my own mother.

As I close the door, I can feel many eyes on me, some felt like acid against my skin. I lift my head, seeing all of my distant family and 'friends' that have come to the party. Johnson stood next to my mother, smiling like he was the happiest man alive. My mother? She was scowling at me like always.

Letting out a sharp breath, I force a smile onto my lips, giving a small wave. My mother glares, making me feel slightly dizzy, hoping I wouldn't mess anything up. Knowing me, I probably would. She expects me to be the perfect child; she just can't realize that nobody, not even her, is perfect.

"Hello, everyone."

Everyone cheers, raising their champagne glasses in the air. They all go back to what they were doing, looking content with themselves amongst the crowd. I put a hand to my cheek, the the warmness that happen to be a heavy, stress induced blush. Johnson comes rushing over to me, quickly grabbing me up in a tight hug to spin me around.

"I almost thought you weren't going to come!" Johnson exclaims, putting me down.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." I put on another smile, cringing on the inside.

My mother suddenly pushes Johnson away, her lips curved into a heavy smirk. She leans over, kissing both of my cheeks. Her hands that gripped my forearms tighten as I hiss under my breath.

"I'm happy for you, darling," she murmurs against my ear before pulling away. Her snake-like fingers attach to Johnson's wrist and that same corrupted smile creeps up her face. "Now, if you will excuse us, Johnson and I have to go greet the guests."

He gives me an apologetic look, mouthing the words: "I'm sorry." I shake my head, mouthing back: "It's fine." After the two have officially wandered off, my so called friends start to surround me. I resist the urge to cover my nose, almost nauseous from the heavy smell of cheap perfume that wafted around them like a thick cloud. Oh, and their faces looked really caked with makeup. Bright makeup like turquoise and bright pink that made their eyes pop in a cornea blinding way.

"We're so happy for you!" Jennifer squeals, crushing me in a hug.

I refuse to breathe, lightly patting her back. She lets go, only to be followed with about seven more unneeded hugs from woman that don't even like me. When feeling like they've successfully friended me up, money still on their minds, they y all scurry away, looking for some men to persuade into a closed off room; it would all be just to themselves. When I know no one else will be coming up to hug me, I gasp to let air into my lungs. Not fresh air, but air.

"Stupid people and their perfume." I grumble, heading straight for the door that leads outside to the garden.

I was quick to weave through the many people, kindly rejecting their offer if they tried to hug. As I'm finally about to reach the door, a hand grabs my wrist and I'm pulled by into the sea of people. My mother drags me up the flight of red carpeted stairs, looking back at me with nasty eyes, only for me to return the favor. We've never been on great terms. Never have been, never will be. It pains me because she's the only real family I have left. I'm an only child that has no father. I suppose I should be easier on her, but she knows I don't like the fancy life. She makes me live through it because she had to.

Johnson and I are pushed together, bodies pressed together uncomfortably. Mother clasps her hands together, her eyes twinkling.

"You two are so cute together. This will surely last." She hisses, eyeing me up and down.

She knew I would probably run away. I think she knew I was trying to escape. Of course she knew, she's my witch of a mother, what else did I expect? Johnson grabs my hand as the ball dancing music cuts on, my cheeks flushing a dark red. I will admit, he is a good looking man with his dark brown hair, deep olive eyes, and chiseled jawline, but I only see him as my childhood friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Care to dance?"

In my head, I imagine myself ripping my hand right out of his, spinning around, and fleeing from the scene. But now that I can't do that anymore, I give a nod. Many of the guest stop their chattering, looking over to watch me and my soon-to-be husband dance. Now, I would have tried to enjoy the moment, but I couldn't help but feel eyes on my back. No, not any of the guests. Their eyes against my skin felt like jealousy, a sensation of stinging and slight burning. They desired fortune. The other eyes that were on my back? They were cold and distant.

"Do you feel that?" I mumble as the song finished.

"No, what do you mean?" Johnson tips his head, looking a little lost.

I let go of his hands, eyeing the huge, golden lined room we were all in. Twisting and turning, I look for anyone that might look suspicious, one brow quirked. No one seemed to be staring at me anymore, yet I still feel those eyes sinking into my back. Goosebumps crawl up my arms as the air is taken out of my lungs. I needed to get away from everyone.

"What a way to start off a party," I mumble, stepping away from Johnson and shifting down the stairs.

I rush down the stairs, pushing past the people that clung together, some dancing to the music, some just chatting and laughing. This time, I make it to the garden door. In haste, I swing it open quite harshly and get outside before Mother can grab me up again. It felt suffocating in there, like you're a tiny dolls and two big hands wrap around your waist and chest then just squeeze.

I expected the eyes on my back thing to get better, but in all reality, it got extremely worse. This time, a bunch of eyes laid themselves on me. Where they were looking at me from? I had no clue. Something was telling me to get away from the party, the other part of me was curious and wanted to stay. For once in many years, let some drama spill over into the cup of my boring life.

The guards standing in the garden give me looks, ones I wanted to slap right off their faces.

"This party was such a bust!" My voice raises, my emotions get the better of me as the guards quickly avoid eye contact.

I reach up and grab the earrings dangling from my ears, pulling them away. Raising my hand high in the air, I fling my arm forward and release the earrings. They fly through the air, landing in some bushes far from where I'm standing. The next thing I get rid of is the stupid necklace around my neck. No one has time for jewelry. Not me anyway. The only reason I would ever wear a pearl necklace willingly is if I could strangle someone with it afterwards.

I grab the shiny pearls laced around my neck and yank harshly, getting rid of the necklace that seemed to make my air situation worse. The pearls attached to the thin line of silver crumble to the stone path and linger around my feet. Only thing to get rid of now is the seriously large ring on my finger. By now, both of the guards had left and proceeded to avoid me for the rest of the night.

I stare down at the ring, feeling conflicted in every way possible. Do I dare take off this ring and ruin my chance at love? Or do I take it off, throw it away and run so I can be free again? I latch my middle and index finger to the ring, about to slide it off my hand for good.

I would have, that is. I nearly jump a mile high when a loud gunshot echoes from the party room and into the garden. My stomach instantly twists into knots, my face paling and eyes wide with uncertainty. Many screams of horror follow after and all I do is stand there, eyes wide and body trembling.

"S-snap out of it, Ella."

I blink a few times and regain the much needed sense to tackle my fear and go to what was going on. Turning around, I quickly make my way into the party room, wanting to see what happened. Behind my back is my left hand with crossed fingers that nothing too bad happened, even though I already know that nothing good could come out of this situation. Pulling open the door that leads back into the party room, I see that all of the guests had now scrambled to the walls and corners, some crying. My mother stood at the top of the staircase, hand pressed to her heart and mouth agape.

In the middle of the room, Johnson laid on the tiled floor, blood surrounding his head that now had a bullet hole in it. Standing above him was a man dressed in black attire, his worn down boots now splattered with crimson liquid as my childhood friends head laid by it. In his hand was a smoking silver pistol, his finger still on the trigger. On his belt was two more pistols like it, ready to be used in any moment.

Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, my hand going to my mouth. My eyes, now blurred with tears, wouldn't leave Johnson's dead body as my mind went completely blank. The man standing above Johnson turns to look at me, his bright white toothed smile wide. The dirty blonde hair hangs over his greenish blue eyes but framed his face perfectly. His capturing green-blue eyes lock with my honey colored ones and my first instinct was to run. I would have if I wasn't struck with terror. Calmly, he places his pistol back into his belt loop, dusting his hands off on his pants, and releasing a content sigh. He turns to me fully, his silky looking hair that is pulled up into a small pony tail swishes at his movements, hands hanging at his side and smile turning into a nasty smirk.

Slowly, he starts to walk towards me, like he wanted me to run. I don't move, too shaken up to do anything but just stand there. I clench my fists when he starts to speed up, the only sounds heard is his boot heels clicking against the tiled floor and the guests crying or whispering. Everything felt slo-mo. People all give me concerned expressions, some whispering for me to get away. I look up to my mom, seeing her on the edge of crying. My eyes flood with disbelief when she motions for me to get away, lips curled into an encouraging smile. She probably wanted me to get away just so she would have a tragic story to tell many years later down the road.

Now all this talk about how I wanted to run and just be free? I never thought my chance would come like this, nor did I want it to, but now I really don't have a choice do I?

So like my mom, and everyone else at the party wanted me to do, I spin around and start to run like the devil is hot on my heels, the sound of quickened foot steps following me.

I cross my fingers once more, hoping I can get to the guards quick enough before I'm killed in cold blood.